The Russian Spy
by ILOVEJESSENGLAND
Summary: Clint Barton is sent by S.H.I.E.L.D to neutralize the Black Widow. A little idea of how that mission went.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any characters mentioned in this story. They are all property of Marvel and Stan Lee (who is awesome). Enjoy

_**THAWMP!**_

The noise thundered through her skull, as the heavy stump of the tree missed her face by a matter of inches. Without having time to properly marvel at the fact that she was still intact, Natasha uncurled out of the foetal position she had adopted in an attempt to avoid as many parts of the tree as possible, and ran silently towards the large branch blocking her way. Vaulting over it, she heard the cry of a voice from behind her. She could have tried to focus on what was being said, but she already had a pretty good idea of the topic.

'_Beeline for the treeline…'_

She allowed a mental smirk for the thought, but pushed on, racing forwards for the cover of the foliage. The wind to the right of her head whistled, picking up her hair and blowing strands into her face as a weapon zoomed past.

'_Bigger than a bullet, thankfully not another rocket though.'_

She heard cursing from the shooter behind at the miss, but her feet didn't stop. A flurry of green leaves were suddenly whipping at her face as she broke into her cover. If she could pause, find somewhere safe to stop for thirty seconds, hell even fifteen, she might be able to decode where she was in this jungle. The furious sound of bullet fire from behind her right side ruled that option out. Her heart was pounding solidly in her throat from sprinting full pelt. A leaf branch bit snapped at her eyes, blinding her temporarily and causing her not to see the root snaking high out of the ground ahead of her. She hit the dirt, hard. Pain soared up her jaw from her chin, and she lifted a hand to protect her from inhaling the dust. Satisfied she hadn't been caught up with yet, she pushed on, swiftly back on her feet. The heat was almost claustrophobic in the shelter of the leaves, which; as useful as it was for hiding, was also not so great for trying to keep a calm head. Natasha chanced a glance upwards, and noted a monkey, clearly distressed by all the commotion, swinging North West from where she was stood.

'_I really hope you know where you're going buddy.'_

Ever conscious of the increasing volume of shouts around her, Natasha raced after the monkey, and soon enough, she could begin to feel the air cooling as she sped through it. The bright blue seared through her eyeballs as she finally broke free of the greenery. Squinting, she barely registered the drop past the rocks at her feet in time, and skidded to a halt, grazing through the knee of her suit. Gritting her teeth at the pain, the familiar metallic taste of blood filled Natasha's mouth. Peering over the edge of the rocks, Natasha noted she was atop a waterfall.

A burst of gunfire from behind the treeline stole her attention, but before she could move to ready herself, one of her pursuers soared out from the bushes and straight towards her. Instinctually rolling to the side, the man connected with an audible thud into the rock, but not before he managed to grab hold of Natasha's hair. A small growl of pain escaped from her lips as he tugged hard at her hair, pulling her back towards him. A sharp elbow into the gut caused him to release his grasp, and Natasha used the advantage to dive away from him, and back towards the treeline of the forest. He was quick behind her though, and, if the tomato shade and pulsing veins of his face were anything to go on, he was pretty mad. His right arm raised, his gun slowly making its way up to her face, but her leg was raised and slamming down into his wrist before he could get his finger onto the trigger. Acrobatically, Natasha lifted her other leg underneath his wrist, clamping his gun wielding hand between her feet, and arching her back, threw her bodyweight backwards, performing a backflip. The crunch of the man's arm was almost as satisfying as the girlish scream he let out. The man dropped the pistol, cradling his arm instead. A moment later he remembered that Natasha was still there, but it was too late. She had already begun her run full speed at the nearest tree trunk, and pounced of it, using the momentum to spin kick her opponent. The force of her blow knocked the man backwards, stumbling to his feet, and before he or Natasha could register what was happening, straight off the cliff. Letting out a deep sigh, Natasha crawled over to the edge, having used up all of her already severely depleted energy supply, and peered over. A red pool of water surrounded the figure of the fallen soldier, who was speared on one of the rocks down below.

'_Okay, so maybe not the time for a dip then…'_

Natasha scrutinized the cliff faces running either side of the waterfall. There were plenty of crevices, but most of the ones that were sizeable enough to potentially become a hand or foot hold were quite a distance below her. Twisting herself into a kneeling position for a better perspective, a suddenly crippling pain raged from the base of her right shoulder blade. The mild spray of water in the air lightly grazed her cheek as the world turned black.


	2. Chapter 2

_**THAWMP!**_

He grasped tightly to the strand of rope in front of his face as the world whizzed past. It was only for a moment, as the knot he'd tied around his waist constrictor-hugged his abdomen. Temporarily winded, he didn't spare a moment, reaching over his shoulder for another arrow to ready.

'_Good job I took the old rope precaution after all.'_

It was a habit that SHIELD were slowly attempting to drill into him, given that all those years in the circus he'd never worn a harness, he'd never really seen the need to be secured when in a position of height.

'_Better leave that out of the debrief, Coulson will never let me hear the end of it!'_

Now suspended from the branch he had stood on, Clint surveyed the pretty impressive sized log, which mere seconds ago had been a gigantic tree. It had all happened so quickly, he'd had eyes on his target, arrow notched, bow ready.

'_No one sent me the memo about bring your bazooka to work day…'_

The tree hadn't stood a chance, already weakened from all the bullets it had taken. Even the tree that Clint was hanging from now was still swaying steadily from the impact of its fallen companion. Clint squinted at all the debris and dust that was floating around the log, slowly drawing his bowstring tight. A mop of flame suddenly flashed through the air, straight over a huge branch.

'_She survived!'_

He hadn't realised he'd been holding his breath, waiting for confirmation of the kill, so the surge of oxygen back into his lungs made a welcome relief in his chest. He followed her with his bow as she surged forwards at a phenomenal pace.

'_Heading for the cover of the trees…smart.'_

All behind her, her other pursuers exploded into action. Bullets and shouts polluted the air, as the five men that were left of the company attempted to bring her down.

'_Well, four and a bit, if you count the guy half crushed...'_

In one swift movement, Clint released his arrow, just to the right of the spy's head, and reached into his boot for his knife. Slicing the rope holding his weight, he rolled into the impact of the floor, crouching with bow in one hand and knife in the other. His arrow had done the trick, alerting the other men to his presence. Two of them had surged on after Widow, cursing as they went, but two of them had stayed to play. Plus the guy who's leg was pinned by the tree. Clint threw the knife at the crippled man before he could even raise his own gun, and drew two arrows out of his quiver. Dodging slightly to the left to avoid the spray of bullets, Clint released the arrows simultaneously, each finding the chest of their targets. Racing over to retrieve his weapons, Clint turned back to face the treeline. His arrows was firmly still in the tree next to where Widow had entered the foliage, a nice little marker he had planted. Sprinting over, he added that arrow back to his collection as well and pressed forwards, following the sounds of the not so subtle soldiers in pursuit. Without missing a step, Clint collapsed his bow and reinserted it into the clasp on the side of this quiver. The leaves and trees were too thick in here for his bow to be practical, hand to hand combat would be a hell of a lot easier. He could hear the remaining men before he saw them, yelling to each other in Russian, so fast that Clint had no chance of understanding any of it. Not that he really needed to.

He found the two men in a very small clearing within the forest, and hidden behind the leaves, he quietly bend down to pick up a stone from the jungle floor, and skimmed it away from him, taking care to make it hit another series of rocks. The two men froze at the noise, before springing into action. Signalling to his teammate, one of the soldiers ran onwards towards the direction the stone had been thrown, and the other reloaded his gun to follow. Clint jumped up, grabbing the strong vine hanging above him, and swung his legs back. Timing his entry into the clearing perfectly, Clint swung his legs forward and let go of the vine as the soldier walked into his aim. Clint directed his feet into the top of the man's left shoulder, causing the bullet spray that he had anticipated, to miss him. The man quickly recovered from the shock of Clint's entry, and turned to face the master archer. Raising his gun again to shoot, Clint slid out of the line of fire, and towards to the gun toting man. His opponent clearly wasn't expecting that, and as he lowered his gun towards his feet, Clint reached up and hammered the gun straight back into the man's nose. A splutter of Russian curses exploded from the man, as he reached up to stem the river of blood from his nose. Still clutching at his nose, the Russian operative tried to stamp on Clint, wildly stomping with his feet and still cursing him. Clint rolled back out of the man's kicks effortlessly, before catching his foot in both hands and twisting it to knock the man off his feet. Before the guy could get off the floor, Clint delivered a swift uppercut to his face, knocking him out cold.

Taking advantage of the space in the clearing, Clint released his bow from the clasp on his quiver and expanded it, before crouching and following the path that other target had taken. Hearing the noises of a scuffle, and he reached over his shoulder into his quiver, and prepared another arrow. As he neared the source of the noises, Clint peeped through the shelter of the leaves, watching intently as the Black Widow's foot connected with her pursuer's jaw. The man stumbled backwards, falling off the peak of the rock ledge he had been kneeling on.

'_Hmm, well just one more to go.'_

Still hidden by the cover of the leaves, Clint watched as his final target slumped to her knees and hauled herself over to the ledge that the man had just disappeared over. Positioning himself and taking a deep breath, Clint drew back his arrow and released it.


End file.
